Terracotta Dream
by Bladedfan
Summary: Warning… Weiss smut ahead. Adult themes and mild course language. Story will have readers potentially yelling, laughing or both by the end. Proceed at your own risk. *wickedgrin*


**Legal Stuff:** _This story is intended to express one fan's genuine appreciation of Weiss Kreuz and its characters. It was written for fun and not at all for profit. If you have any rights in the anime described here and find the posting of this fanfiction offensive or harmful, please contact me, and I will be happy to remove it._

**A/N: **_Warning… Weiss smut ahead. Adult themes and mild course language. Story will have readers potentially yelling, laughing or both by the end. Proceed at your own risk. *wickedgrin*_

**Terracotta Dream**

The pair tripped backward over a garden hose. Several flower pots met their end in the process. And still they didn't break their kiss, even as terracotta crashed to red-brown splinters all around them. Or when a watering can tipped over, its contents mingling with the spilt sod beneath their feet. It was a fangirl's wet-dream.

Aya, however, didn't seem to think so. When the two parted for air he glanced around at the mess. Flowers, mud and clay shards littered the ground, and water trickled down the side counter from where the can had fallen. The annoyance was almost enough to ruin the mood. His gaze traveled back to Yohji. Yeah. Almost.

Leaning forward Aya fisted a hand in his partner's shirt, pulling him down to the point where they'd meet. There was the brush of lips, the nip of teeth, the heat of panting breath. And tongue. How Yohji managed what he did with his tongue… Aya was sure it was illegal somewhere. Most things that felt that good usually were.

Just then Yohji slipped a hand up the front of Aya's shirt, fingers skimming across first stomach, then ribs. There was a throaty chuckle, then the sound of Yohji's voice; a low and sensual rasp.

"If the girls could see us now… but, then, I think I like having you… all to myself."

He finished with a smirk, self satisfied and utterly irritating.

"I'm just about getting there, y'know," he went on. "I think you are, too. So what's it to be, counter, floor or stairs?"

Aya glared at the selection. There was mud on the floor, water all over the counter and the stairs probably hadn't been vacuumed in months.

"Better make up your mind soon, princess, 'cause I'm ready to blow."

That made Aya growl.

"I am _not_ a fucking girl, you prick."

As if to add credence to the fact Aya shifted his weight. The hand he'd closed around Yohji's shirt reached up to tangle in mussed blond hair, and Aya turned. It was a martial arts move, age old, but it served its purpose in this kind of battle as well. Within seconds they'd switched places and the small of Yohji's back pressed against the wet counter where Aya's had previously been. Then the redhead leaned in close.

The turn of events had forced the air, briefly, from Yohji's lungs. He'd barely managed his first ragged pant when Aya's teeth fastened onto his collar bone. It wasn't a gentle nip, either. There was nothing playful in the motion at all. Nothing but a carnal show of dominance, and something Yohji'd never experienced before, not in the kinkiest or most adventurous girl. Whether it was surprise, pleasure or both that had him throwing his head back, he couldn't be sure.

"We're going upstairs," Aya's voice rumbled at his ear. "_Princess._"

Yohji's eyes snapped open and he drew in a sharp breath. Then he stared very steadily at Aya. It was the gaze a person uses when they're sizing you up. And if the pressure at his leg were any indication… but, no, that wasn't what Yohji was trying to measure. He'd just come to realize they'd entered into this thing without knowing who was "seme" and who was "uke." The look in Aya's eyes was answer enough, though. The two of them... they were neither. Friends, brothers, partners, both dominant and controlling in their own ways. But when it came to being submissive? Nah. Neither one of them was going to back down. Which could make things… interesting.

"So what now?" Yohji asked smoothly.

Aya was a warm weight on top of him, and he had to admit it felt… nice. And to think that there was a person who wanted him badly enough to be pushy, damn near throw him around? That was more than flattering. It was almost - no, scratch that - it was love, no two ways around it. It was fucking love. Jesus, how long had it been?

"We're going upstairs," Aya repeated.

Yohji blinked at him slowly, then let his gaze slide down to where their hips met and the area between. After about half a minute he looked up again, mouth quirked, expression sly.

"You really think either of us is making it that far?"

Aya's brow furrowed. "I have excellent self control. Unlike some people I know."

"Same self control that got us here in the first place? Or are you going to admit that I started it, 'cause, you know, _I'm_ the man."

To anyone else the words would've seemed a gauntlet thrown. But to them it was only a mocking, playful banter. Give and take, push and pull. Like a pair of wolves snapping at one another, or cats batting with barely concealed claws. The growl at the back of Aya's throat, the hiss as Yohji surged forward to fasten a hand in his hair before going for his mouth. All play. And what a fun game it was.

Their lips met and Yohji pushed his tongue between Aya's teeth. If Aya had wanted, he could've bit down, stopped Yohji's entrance before it even began. But he didn't want. At least, not that. He was distracted enough that Yohji was able to use Aya's own move against him, turning the tables once more.

Aya gasped, then narrowed his eyes in a pointed glare.

"What _are_ we supposed to do then," he growled.

Again Yohji smirked, as if the answer were oh-so-clear.

"Right here. Right now," he said.

And then…

"What the hell are you snickering at?" Aya demanded.

Coming up behind Yohji he rested a hand on the back of his chair.

"See for yourself," he partner replied, pointing at the screen of Omi's laptop.

Omi's "borrowed" laptop. Yohji was well and truly screwed when the kid got home, but Aya wasn't about to tell him so. Then he'd never learn. Yet it wasn't the computer that had him choking back a remark, but what was on the screen. Amid paragraphs of text he picked out two very familiar words – two _names_, rather. Yohji's and his.

"What the… fuck?" he finally managed to sputter.

"Apparently that's the whole idea," Yohji's eyes sparkled with mischief over the rims of his shades. "Looks like the shop's fangirls think us quite the pair. They even write fanfiction. Fanfiction, can you believe it? This one's called "Flowershop Luv." Kinky."

Aya's eye twitched.

"But you wanna know what's really funny?"

The look on Aya's face showed he thought it was anything but. Even so, he asked the obligatory question of, "what?"

"I think we're totally in character. Isn't that just fucking wild?"

"It's fucking something…" Aya grumbled. "Who the hell wrote this shit?" The computer lid slammed down in punctuation. "I swear, if I ever find them…"

"Oh, lighten up, man," Yohji replied. "It coulda been worse."

Bait and trap, it was the oldest game in the book. And poor Aya couldn't help but fall right in.

"How?" he demanded. "How the hell could it be any worse? I mean, me… "with" _you_? Christ."

Yohji's grin broadened wickedly.

"Coulda been Ken."

If Aya's complexion paled a shade at the thought, that made things even better. Just funny as hell. The redhead coughed into his hand and looked away. Yohji took it for agreement.

"The writing's pretty good, too. But the title? That just sucks. Why couldn't the author have come up with something sexy and steamy, like… "Terracotta Love." That's got a nice ring to it. But love spelled out properly, not that L-U-V shit. We're guys, after all. And guys do not "Luv." Right?"

"I can't believe you…"

"Oh, oh, wait! I've got it!" Yohji paused for dramatic effect. "Terracotta Bliss."

Aya's eye twitched again.

"I think that sucks about as much as the "luv" thing."

"Whaaat? It's genius!"

"On the short bus, maybe."

"Well, fine. What would _you_ call it, then?"

Crossing his arms Aya considered. "Terracotta Bliss" sounded like the name of some cheap porno. All about sex with no emotion at all. Somehow that didn't seem right for a story about them. After a moment he looked up and suggested dubiously, "Terracotta Dream?"

He expected Yohji to mock him or laugh. To his surprise the other man looked impressed.

"That's actually pretty good," turning back to the computer he asked, "Think we should post a review and suggest it?"

The laptop screen slammed down before it even made it halfway up.

"**No.**"

-End-

**A/N: **_Sooo… after one reader demanded more, and another said I was a nice break from boy pr0n I come out with this. It was actually a response to a challenge the wonderful and wicked Grey issued me. The challenge was in the form of a picture. I shall pester her into posting it so that I may share the link._

_She did mention that the picture didn't necessarily have to illicit a boy-love story, but I could tell she'd be amused at the thought of me writing something like that. Plus, I was kind of curious myself as to whether or not I could pull it off. A "just to see if I can," challenge, to be sure._

_Hope I didn't tease you all too much. And, as always, comments, questions and constructive criticism are not only welcome, but oh so appreciated. Thanks for reading, guys! :)_


End file.
